


He's Not My Boytoy!

by hopefulwriter27



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulwriter27/pseuds/hopefulwriter27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt brings Blaine to a McKinley High football game. Karofsky gets jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Not My Boytoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote some smut in honor of the season 2 Glee finale!

“Think you can fucking tease me? Bringing your little boytoy _here_?” Karofsky says, slamming Kurt’s wrists into the lockers. His shoulders ache from the way his arms stretch above his head. He twists, trying to get free.  “To my football game?”

“Leave me alone,” Kurt snaps, then belatedly adds, “Blaine is not my boytoy.”

Karofsky’s body presses into his, aborting any chance of escape. The raised ridges of the lockers bite into his back. “You sure looked pretty cozy to me.” The larger boys grip tightens.  A spike of adrenaline shoots through Kurt’s nerves. Warm breath heats Kurt’s face. “His arm pressing against yours; his fucking perfect smile flashing your way,” Karofsky rasps. A muscled leg slides between Kurt’s forcing his own legs wider. His breath catches in his throat. Karofsky ducks his head closer. His mouth brushes Kurt’s ear. “Do you think he could ever satisfy you the way I can?” A rock hard erection grinds into Kurt’s groin. “That little boy? No fucking way.”

Teeth nip at the edge of his earlobe; Kurt whimpers. “Please…” He can’t stop his hips from snapping forward.

“What?” Dave rumbles. He kicks Kurt’s legs even wider. Kurt’s suddenly hard. “What do you need Fancy?” Teeth trace along Kurt’s jaw and down his neck. Lips suck at his throat.

Kurt twists, trying to free his wrists. Dave shifts so that his body covers Kurt’s. It leaves his other hand free to help hold Kurt still. His mouth moves to the other side of Kurt’s face and sucks a bruise onto the curve of his jaw. Their hips dance, rubbing, throbbing against one another. Kurt’s chasing that high. “Want me to jerk you off?”

Kurt groans. “Yes,” he says breathlessly.

Karofsky laugh vibrates against Kurt’s chest. “I need a free hand to do that, don’t I?” He raises his knee and delicious pleasure spikes through Kurt’s brain. “Too bad my hands are busy.”

“Please,” Kurt cries again. “Please. I won’t move them.” He turns his head trying to capture Karofsky’s mouth. His teeth catch along the jock’s lower lip. Their tongue touch for a brief moment, and then Karofsky’s mouth is back to Kurt’s neck.

Karofsky’s palms drift down Kurt’s arms, past his shoulders, and down his sides. They settle around Kurt’s waist. Limbs unused to the position, Kurt’s arms begin to drop. “Keep ‘em up Fancy, or you won’t get what you want.” As if to prove his point, the jock rubs Kurt through his jeans then pulls his hand away.

“Okay,” Kurt whispers roughly. He can’t see Karofsky’s smile, but he can feel the curve of his lips pressed into his skin.

Teeth nip at his chin, and then Kurt’s rewarded with a kiss. He wants to grab Karofsky’s head, hold him still. His hands don’t move. “Good boy,” Karofsky praises. Kurt shudders.

One large hand spreads across the dip in Kurt’s back and the other frees the button of his pants. The sound of his zipper is loud, but by the time Karofsky’s hand reaches inside to grip him the only thing Kurt hears is the rush of his own blood.

Karofsky’s hand is as hot as his breath. Heat blossoms throughout Kurt’s body as he’s stroked. His chest trembles as Karofsky sucks hard on his neck. His knees wobble when Karofsky’s thumb drags the slick precome across the head of Kurt’s erection.

Pleasure coils tightly in Kurt’s brain. Karofsky’s grip is perfectly tight, and each stroke winds Kurt higher and higher. “P-please,” he begs.

Karofsky gives in to the demand. The hand at Kurt’s back moves to his neck as Karofsky’s mouth meets his. Kurt closes his eyes, soaking up the kiss. Karofsky’s tongue presses inside just as he twists his hand on the upward stroke.

Kurt comes apart. His brain shatters in waves of pleasure as he spurts his release across Karofsky’s hand and both of their clothes. His arms drop down, limbs weak. They fall across Karofsky’s shoulders. Kurt sags against the other boy’s body.

“That good Fancy?” Karofsky says smugly. Kurt opens his eyes and swallows. He doesn’t speak; he hasn’t caught his breath yet. The other boy dips his head and steals another kiss. “Half-time’s over. I have to get back.” Kurt nods stupidly. His brain cells aren’t fully functioning yet.  “Come over my place after the game. You can return the favor.”

Kurt licks his lips. “Yeah. Okay.” He’s still shaking. His whole body feels oversensitive.

Karofsky wipes his hand off on Kurt’s underwear then buttons him back up. “Send your boytoy home.”

Kurt nods. Karofsky takes a few steps down the hall then Kurt says, “He’s not my boytoy!”    

 


End file.
